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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806726">Collision</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tremmy_chii/pseuds/tremmy_chii'>tremmy_chii</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>What Makes a Heart Beat [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood, First Meetings, Gen, Half-Vampire Yeosang, I present to you FRIENDSHIP ta da, Kang Yeosang-centric, Slice of Life, Werewolf Wooyoung, children are a handful, italics is the prompt and the number is character age, writober thing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:27:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tremmy_chii/pseuds/tremmy_chii</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeosang doesn't have good memories of when he was teething as a child ("—Uh, yeah you do, you met me," Wooyoung interjects, offended). He remembers a lot of crying and angst, and on top of that, being tackled by a feral beast at a public park. ("I was not feral, <i>you</i> were!") So yeah, there's not much Yeosang has to say about this aspect of his life.</p><p>(<i>fangs</i>, 5)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>What Makes a Heart Beat [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Collision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Using the "Halloween with ATEEZ" prompts by zalyshka on twitter!</p><p>I'm @faeyeojoong if you solely want to check on the AU thread :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang is a kind and well-behaved child. He never throws too long of a tantrum and always listens and learns when his father explains to him what he did wrong. He says "please" and "thank you" even if it's very quietly behind his mother's legs. He doesn't even cry when another child steals his crayon at the nursery; he simply shifts his small little hand to reach for another color. Three out of five times a teacher will notice anyway, and the coveted red crayon he was looking for is placed in front of him with a fond smile. See? Everything is okay. Yeosang is good at being patient, knowing that good things come to those who wait. </p><p> </p><p>Things are a little bit different when he's teething though.</p><p> </p><p>His gums are sore, his baby canines are loose, and suddenly one day he sees one of them stuck on a gummy worm he just tried to bite off. Yeosang blinks at it in shock, then slowly feels the gaping hole in his mouth where his tooth once was. He trembles for all three seconds before bursting into tears, surprising all his friends at the mini round table during lunchtime. The teachers stand to see what's wrong, but the children are even faster. Tiny hands grab and tug on the colorful paint-stained aprons.</p><p> </p><p>"Teacher, teacher! Yeosang is crying!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeosang is sad!"</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang is inconsolable and gets picked up early that day. He clings onto his mother at home, and she strokes his back until he tires himself out into a deep sleep, hours longer than his usual nap. His father gets home from work with grilled chicken and a hefty box of donations from the local clinic. They cut the chicken up even smaller than usual for him and pay extra attention to how much he drinks from his cup. Yeosang, although eyes puffy from crying earlier in the day, sits still and eats deliciously. His father plays with him and continues to teach him how to read until bedtime. He kisses everyone good night, and it's like he's forgotten all about his missing tooth.</p><p> </p><p>...But then, he loses the other three baby canines in one weekend. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh baby," his mother coos sadly while he wails and hiccups with the intensity of his cries. "Let mommy see."</p><p> </p><p>"Is he supposed to lose them that fast?" His father hovers over them worriedly.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes." Yeosang isn't staying still, but his mouth is open wide enough for them to catch glimpses of his missing teeth. The three spots are still a little bloody from how fresh it is. However, the upper left corner already has a white point sticking out. "He's growing his fangs."</p><p> </p><p>"Do we need to remove him from kindergarten or…?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, it'll be okay," his mother says as she cradles him to her chest, rocking them back and forth. The response seems to be both for Yeosang and his father. "They won't be too noticeable. Once he grows out the whole fang it'll stay retracted unless he wants to bite."</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang rubs his face in frustration, tired of crying but also still very upset. His mouth is itchy and sore. He's hungry. But not <em>hungry</em>. He wants food but he can't chew properly. Yeosang is a good child with a lot of patience, but he doesn't know what good is waiting for him after this. </p><p> </p><p>"Does it hurt?" His father strokes his hair.</p><p> </p><p>No. He thinks there has been worse. It's not like the sharp pain of rocks on his knees when he falls on the playground. It's not like the impending doom of a needle at the doctor's office. But this is persistent. Annoying. Everything else is only momentary. "Mn," Yeosang nods his head pitifully, even though he's technically not in pain.</p><p> </p><p>His parents try to improve his mood for the rest of the week with his favorite things — but it's hard. The ache distracts him from his daily activities and it only gets worse when he keeps poking the sharp points of his fangs with his tongue and causing himself to bleed. </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang always looks forward to snack time. (He likes anything his mother gives him.) He likes the mechanical action of chewing food and likes being able to <em>taste</em> them, a sense that apparently only his father can relate to. (His mother sits at the table with them, of course. But she only ever sips from her glass — slow, so it can last the whole meal. Slow, so she can bask in the warmth of her small family and watch over her beloved messy eater.) The sweetness of chocolate, cakes, and even fruits makes Yeosang want to dance, legs swinging happily under the table. So when even this simple joy is denied to him from his own sore gums, he gets angry and snappy.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing he can drink is blood pouches.</p><p> </p><p>Blood is okay. Blood doesn't taste bad or anything (well, type A is the best), but it doesn't make him want to sing or dance with excitement. Since he's a child, and a <em>half</em> on top of that, he doesn't need much to be sated. He can't eat, so his mother seems to think it means he needs to drink more. </p><p> </p><p>"No!" Yeosang yells and tries to hop off his seat. He's caught under the armpits with lightning speed and placed on his mother's lap. "No!!" He struggles with more desperation, face willfully turned away from the red cup and straw. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeosang, you need to drink this before you can go play," she tries coaxing him gently. Yeosang <em>hisses</em>. Actually hisses for the first time. </p><p> </p><p>The two adults stare with wide eyes as his irises glow a faint pink. </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang notices a slip in his mother's grasp and tries to slink to the floor and maybe run to his room. She snaps out of it and turns his little body towards her, forcing eye contact. </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Yeosang</em>," she warns slowly, eyes red. (His father grips his chopsticks harder as he watches.) "Be good."</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang freezes under her gaze. He doesn't understand. He <em>has</em> been good. He drank everything in his lunch pack today at school even though he felt so bloated he could hurl everything back out. He stayed put in his seat during story time even though all the blood rushing through his veins made him jumpy and kept his cheeks flushed. He’s so full, but his mom looks so mad… Yeosang doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t know how to explain how he feels. So he sits and stares back, bottom lip trembling more and more with each passing second. </p><p> </p><p>“Dear,” his father’s voice suddenly cuts in between them. “Your eyes are red.”</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang sees the flash of surprise on her face and then the quick crumble into remorse. He suddenly hiccups, not really crying, but overwhelmed by all the emotions he's trying to contain. </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Oh</em>," she gasps. The cup is cast aside on the dining table, no longer important. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry, did I scare you?"</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang nods his head, small upper fans poking his bottom lip, and her heart breaks. Yeosang is such a good, honest child. How could she pressure a sweet baby like that, whether it was intentional or not? </p><p> </p><p>"You don't want to drink, Yeosang-ah?" His father's big hand cradles the back of his head. Yeosang immediately responds to him, glad to find an escape. He makes grabby hands at him, missing the way his mother's face drops when he leaves her lap. </p><p> </p><p>"Mn," Yeosang makes a noise of agreement.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you still full from lunch?"</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang's eyes shine. Yes! Someone understands!</p><p> </p><p>"Was it too much?" </p><p> </p><p>"Mn."</p><p> </p><p>His mother sees his pink cheeks at that moment and finally recognizes it for what it is.</p><p> </p><p>"Use your words, Yeosang-ah."</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, daddy."</p><p> </p><p>"You can go turn on the TV and wait for me to finish my dinner. Then I'll read to you. Does that sound good?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah."</p><p> </p><p>"Remember to tell us how you feel, okay? Mommy didn't know you were full."</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang looks over his shoulder at his mother. "Okay," he promises. They let him go, and the day is saved from a round of tears. </p><p> </p><p>("—I'm so <em>stupid</em>, his cheeks were all red and he was restless ever since I picked him up and I couldn't even tell—"</p><p> </p><p>"You're not stupid. You were just trying to look out for him. It's been a very sudden change of diet."</p><p> </p><p>Ever since growing baby teeth and being old enough to handle solids, Yeosang had always shown a preference for human food. He still drank blood — he needed to — but it was in small amounts and acted more like an accompaniment to his meal. Kind of like juice for other kids. Now that he can't have solids while his fangs are giving him agony, Yeosang has strictly been on a liquid-only diet. To Yeosang's mother, who had gotten used to regularly feeding on donation bags after registering Yeosang on a government-supported program for <em>half</em> children, the sips he took seemed so <em>little</em>. She just doesn't want him to starve, not when the world isn't how it used to be sixty years ago. They're in better times, and Yeosang deserves the best the world has to offer.</p><p> </p><p>"I should have noticed. It could've gone real bad." She pales impossibly further just thinking about the consequences of her actions.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it didn't. Yeosang knows when to say no," his father reassures her quietly in the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't even know how to take care of another adult vampire, let alone a half human child! There's no room for mistakes, he's — he's my only baby…"</p><p> </p><p>They hug while Yeosang obliviously watches dancing penguins teach him how to count in the living room. </p><p> </p><p>"He's my only baby too." </p><p> </p><p>And Yeosang's father means it in the sense that they're in this together, that they're constantly learning how to love and raise Yeosang right. But after a beat of silence, what he gets is a stomp on the foot that's only mildly softened by a playful smile.</p><p> </p><p>"He <em>better</em> be your only baby. If I ever find out you've somehow sired some other kid behind my back, you'll be nothing but a dry sack of—")</p><p> </p><p>In the span of just three weeks, Yeosang's fangs grow to their appropriate sizes. His temperament goes back to normal by the end of the process, which is a relief. </p><p> </p><p>Only, there's a new problem.</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa, your teef are so big!" </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang looks up from where he's building a castle in the neighborhood playground, his hand mid-scoop in the sand. A lanky boy (potential friend?) roughly his age stands before him, casting a disproportionately large shadow over Yeosang and his castle. He's got big, curious eyes with a mole beneath his left and a wide grin that showcases his missing front teeth. That might explain the lisp and the fascinated exclamation. </p><p> </p><p>But instead of feeling flattered or happy that someone's come to play with him, Yeosang panics. There are other kids looking at them, drawn by the noise. His parents specifically told him to always keep his fangs retracted in public because it's safer for him that way. Yeosang and his mom are different. They've got bigger teeth than most people, and most people don't like that. It scares them, and people can get mean if they're scared. It's safer to hide his fangs. </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang drops the yellow scoop in his hand and runs away.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" The boy's high-pitched voice calls after him.</p><p> </p><p>He bypasses the jungle gym and enters a clear field of freshly cut grass, green stains rapidly marking up his light blue shoes. Yeosang's breath quickens — where's his mom? Did he go the wrong way in his haste? </p><p> </p><p>"Hey!! Why are you running??" </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang looks behind him with wide eyes. The loud boy is <em>fast</em>. He's hot on Yeosang's heels and it doesn't even look like he's trying. Yeosang has never met someone faster than him. He'd be delighted and curious if it didn't feel like he was being chased down for being caught with his fangs out. </p><p> </p><p>He didn't mean to! Yeosang keeps them in his mouth at the correct size nine times out of ten. It's just that when he focuses too hard on something, they slip out without his knowledge. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh!!" The boy shouts, practically squealing. "Are we playing tag??"</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang raises his eyebrows. What part of this looks like an invitation for tag? "No!"</p><p> </p><p>The response only excites his pursuer further. "Then why are we running? What's your name??" He picks up speed, running side by side with Yeosang. Their sudden closeness startles him.</p><p> </p><p>"Why are you chasing me!" Yeosang never raises his voice to this volume. It feels foreign — and he's also getting breathless. His legs are starting to feel the burn as they make laps around the park.</p><p> </p><p>"Because you're running! What's your name?" </p><p> </p><p>"Stop!" Yeosang furrows his eyebrows. He needs to get away and find his mom. He needs to go home.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm Wooyoung!" The boy introduces himself first, hoping that will prompt his new friend into doing the same. Yeosang just keeps running though, and that kind of agitates him. Wooyoung doesn't like being ignored. "Hey! I asked for your name!!"</p><p> </p><p>"Stop chasing me!"</p><p> </p><p>"Stop running!"</p><p> </p><p>They shout the same two things over and over again until Wooyoung is fed up and growls, nose scrunched up in a snarl. Yeosang's eyes barely see the blur of a boy flash from right beside him to right in front of him as Yeosang scrambles to stop before they crash into each other. It doesn't make a difference though, because Wooyoung's goal was to, indeed, tackle Yeosang down with his whole body.</p><p> </p><p>They roll on the grass upon impact, arms holding onto each other while the momentum keeps them moving until they're at least halfway across the field. Yeosang feels sharper than normal nails digging into his skin and his heart leaps to his throat. It hurts—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Danger.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>His eyes dilate and turn pink, pointy fangs shooting out in response to the threat. Yeosang thrashes on the ground (and makes the scratches on his arms worse), hissing. When an opening presents itself, Yeosang takes it and fights back. Wooyoung's shoulder is left unattended, vulnerable. He's screaming something, but it goes unheard.</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang lurches forward and <em>bites</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Everything goes still. </p><p> </p><p>The moment his fangs sank in, Yeosang snapped out of it. </p><p> </p><p>Now his teeth are latched onto the shoulder, a small drop of blood entering the roof of his mouth. Yeosang mostly tastes cotton — Wooyoung's shirt helped protect him from the bite, but Yeosang's upper fangs easily penetrated through until the tips touched skin. If Yeosang didn't somehow stop, it would've gone deeper.</p><p> </p><p>Horrified, Yeosang freezes.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't know how long he stays like that until Wooyoung starts crying and two pairs of arms pull them away from each other.</p><p> </p><p>"Wooyoung!" A woman cups his cheeks worriedly. It must be his mom. "What happened!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeosang, your <em>arms</em>!" He hears his own mother gasp and fret over his injuries. It's probably nothing — he doesn't even feel it. All Yeosang can do is stare blankly at Wooyoung, who is wailing his heart out. </p><p> </p><p>The same warning that made him run in the first place echoes in his mind. Except, it sounds different. Yeosang is a good child, and he's also a smart child who knows when he's done something wrong and how to read between the lines.</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang and his mom are different. They've got bigger teeth than most people, and most people don't like that. It scares them because Yeosang and his mom are capable of hurting people. It's safer to hide his fangs. </p><p> </p><p>Tears prickle his eyes. "I didn't mean to," Yeosang whimpers quietly. Then again, louder, "I didn't mean to!" He sobs just as loud as Wooyoung, throwing himself into his mother's embrace as if desperately trying to convince her to believe him. </p><p> </p><p>The two women assess each other with annoyance, then to the children with love, and then right back at each other with compassion. Who could've known a werewolf and a vampire child would meet each other and get into trouble like this? Humans predominate the city; it seemed unlikely for two supernatural families to exist in the same neighborhood. They weren't prepared for this.</p><p> </p><p>"Shh, calm down, it's alright." Comfort is being offered in all directions, from the warm arms around him to the tender voice in his ears. The sounds overlap with the other woman and her boy, who are hurdling up on the ground just like a mirror image. </p><p> </p><p>When Yeosang calms down enough to swallow the lump in his throat, he lifts his head to look at Wooyoung's snotty, crumpled face a meter away from him. Somehow, Wooyoung looks at him at the same time too. Their eyes meet at first and then trail down towards the other's wounds, and a fresh round of hot tears surge forward. They hurt somebody. The guilt and shame overwhelm any other physical pain.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh — no, no, no, look Yeosang-ah! They're all healed up!" His mother attempts to bring his arms to his attention. The surface scratches that were there are gone, just like she said. Only a little bit of dried red-brown blood remains to indicate any harm was done. That's not the point of his misery though. The point is—</p><p> </p><p><em>Use your words, Yeosang-ah</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Yeosang reaches for the boy, fingers curling in the air. "I'm sorry," he says shakily, sniffing. Everyone turns their attention to him, but he's only concerned about one. "Does it hurt?"</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung stares at him with wet eyes. It looks like he's trying to calm down and say something but his body isn't cooperating. He's an impatient child, so he attempts to speak anyway. "N—<em>hic!—</em>No. Are you? <em>Hic!</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"No," Yeosang answers truthfully. It might've in the moment, but not anymore. "Are you mad at me?"</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung frowns at the question and looks at him strangely. He glances down as his own hands, knowing that it was his <em>own</em> claws that struck first when they started rolling on the grass. Wooyoung just wanted to catch him. He wanted to introduce himself and gain a friend. Doesn't the boy with pretty eyes and big teeth know it was Wooyoung's fault? </p><p> </p><p>He feels his mom nudge him for being too quiet. (Wow, what a miracle.) "No… <em>hic</em>… I hurt you first. <em>Hic!</em> 'M sorry." Wooyoung sniffles loudly. A trail of snot runs down his right nostril anyway. He feels his mom let him go, probably to find a tissue in her bag, so he takes the opportunity to approach the boy. <em>His </em>mom is dressed kind of weird. It's a sunny day out, but the auntie is covered from head to toe with a thick long-sleeve purple dress and white gloves. Her wide-brimmed hat is so big Wooyoung could probably fit under the shade too if he stood close enough to her. </p><p> </p><p>"What's your name?" Wooyoung tries again, way more civilly this time. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm Kang Yeosang," and out of habit from greeting adults who always ask, "I'm five years old."</p><p> </p><p>"A hyung?" Wooyoung perks up right as a tissue invades his vision. He obediently blows into it, whining a little when his mom wipes a little too long and lightly chastises him for being such a mess. "I'm four!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeosang's birthday was in June," Yeosang's mother supplies. "They might be the same age."</p><p> </p><p>"Ahh." A nod of acknowledgement. "Wooyoungie will turn five in November," Wooyoung's mom replies. She turns to Wooyoung to correct him. "Not a hyung, a friend. You'll be five years old soon too."</p><p> </p><p><em>But I'm four and he's five?</em> Wooyoung takes a moment to process this, tilting his head. Uh sure, whatever, his mom has to be right. Besides, there are other questions he wants answers to. "Why did you run??"</p><p> </p><p>"…You said my teeth were big…" Yeosang mumbles and shifts uncomfortably.</p><p> </p><p>While understanding washes over the two adults, Wooyoung presses further, confused. "They are!" However, when he looks at Yeosang's mouth to prove his point, the fangs are nowhere in sight. "Huh? They aren't?" His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.</p><p> </p><p>"Wooyoungie." He turns to his mom at the sound of her call. "You shouldn't draw attention to someone's fangs so suddenly. It's the same reason why you shouldn't transform. It keeps you and everyone safe."</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung's mouth drops. "Yeosang is like me?" </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang listens to the exchange, equally as fascinated. Wooyoung is like him?</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung's mom smiles awkwardly. "…Yes," she decides to answer. "He's like you, but he's different from you too." The children stare at her with big eyes. Yeosang looks like he's brewing in his thoughts, on the precipice of forming a serious question beyond his years. Meanwhile, Wooyoung quickly gives up on making sense of the vague answer and reaches for Yeosang's hand. The touch surprises Yeosang.</p><p> </p><p>"Let's be friends," Wooyoung's high little voice says. He says it with so much conviction, there's no room for Yeosang to decline. Not that he would've anyway.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Yeosang smiles — which grows wider when he sees Wooyoung's funny toothless grin. </p><p> </p><p>Yeosang and Wooyoung never let go of their hands as they get cleaned up and as they head back to the sand pit to rebuild Yeosang's castle.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>("You're so fast," Yeosang compliments, not forgetting about the run. </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung puffs up with pride, letting out a squeaky delighted laugh as he attempts to show off his form on all fours. "<em>Hehehe</em> I'm faster as a wolf—!"</p><p> </p><p>"—<em>Jung Wooyoung!</em>" His mom roars.</p><p> </p><p>Oops.)</p>
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